


Undisclosed Desires

by mokiwrites



Series: IronStrange bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), IronStrange - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alien goo for lube, Aliens Made Them Do It, Blood and Injury, Cloak of levitation fucking, Double Anal Penetration, Dubious Consent, Extremely Rough Sex, Hints of Non-con, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Pollen, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 03:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokiwrites/pseuds/mokiwrites
Summary: Things get wildly out of hand for Tony and Stephen after messily defeating an alien they're both unfamiliar with.Birthday gift for my belovedmeshkoland a fill for my ironstrange bingo card!





	Undisclosed Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meshkol (ashernorton)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashernorton/gifts).



> Pour ma bien-aimée salope (LOL),  
> Tu es l'une des meilleures choses qu'il me soit arrivé. Si seulement tu savais combien tous ces petits moments avec toi sont importants à mes yeux.  
> Je sais que l'année passée a été incroyablement dure, mais j'espère être en mesure de pouvoir te donner une fraction de la joie que toi tu m'as apporté.  
> Joyeux anniversaire (en retard), mon amour.
> 
>  
> 
> A huge thank you to [old_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_blue/pseuds/old_blue) for beta reading this!!

Hulk slammed the creature’s head into the unforgiving pavement and held it there by a pair of horns—or maybe they were spikes? It was hard to tell what, exactly, the anatomy of this particular alien was. Take a jellyfish, larva, and spider, smash them together, make it twice the size of an elephant, and sprinkle on a bit of fur and that might just produce something close to what they were facing.

It screeched and thrashed, but Hulk hardly budged. Spiderman took the opportunity to tangle up three of its legs and threw it off balance enough that it toppled onto its side. Unfortunately, this gave the creature just enough momentum to shake Hulk’s hold and bat him out of the way with a free leg. As the Hulk always did, he retaliated with even more force and began pummeling the thing around its many eyes, ignoring the snapping mouthparts.

Stephen’s hands worked quickly to conjure up the Crimson Bands and reinforce the webs holding the thing’s legs, restraining two more.

Strange barked, “Here’s your shot, Tony!” over the comms as Iron Man zipped over his head and circled around the alien. “Remember, aim fo—”

“I got it, Doc, just hold it still.”

The nanotech armor shifted around Tony’s arms, repulsors turned into canons and stabilizing thrusters formed around his arms and torso. The whine of their charge was loud and high-pitched, apparently on a frequency that the creature didn’t much care for. It writhed and thrashed even more desperately, Stephen was dragged forward by the bands he still held tight.

The abdomen of the creature began to swell and darken, pores scattered around the body started to open. Its shrieking climbed to new heights, overwhelming even the Hulk’s roars.

Wide-eyed, Stephen whipped his head up to the Iron Man armor. “Tony, wai—!”

The repulsor cannons fired and sliced directly through the swelling on the creature’s body. Immediately there was an explosion of viscous liquid, so dark blue it was almost black. Stephen only had time enough for a spell to encase Peter and Hulk in a protective shield; he and Tony were drenched so thoroughly that it knocked them both to the ground. The alien, at least, was dead.

“What the _fuck_ …” Tony groaned and rolled to sit up. “Oh my god, it’s in the suit. This is so goddamn disgusting. Ugh, it _smells!_ ”

Stephen sputtered and had to practically dig his way out of the copious amount of slime. The Cloak tried its best to wipe some of it away from his face, but it was so thoroughly drenched, too, it barely managed to do more than smear it around.

“Yeah, well,” Stephen spat a few times. “At least you had some protection.”

“ _Mister Stark? Doctor Strange?_ ” Peter’s concerned voice crackled in their ears.

“Pete, call Cap for extraction. Keep an eye on Banner,” Tony ordered. He stood and the helmet crawled back into the rest of the suit. As soon as he could he sucked in a lungful of fresh air, then promptly gagged on the smell.

“We’ll need the quarantine protocols, too,” Stephen added and huffed sticky strands of goop away from his mouth. “And, Wong needs to be contacted for proper disposal and clean up. He and the other Masters will know how to handle this.”

“Got it!” Peter saluted the two of them, then turned and swung away towards Hulk.

Tony trudged through the thick sludge towards Stephen and pulled the sorcerer up to his feet. The armor skittered back into the housing reactor, leaving only his boots, and he used the driest parts of his sleeves to wipe the worst of the slime away from Stephen’s eyes and mouth—a rather unexpected, but greatly appreciated gesture.

“Good thing it wasn’t, like, acid blood or something,” Though Stephen couldn’t quite open his eyes yet, he could hear the grin in Tony’s voice, as he gently cleaned his face.

“Because this is _so_ much better.” Stephen was not amused.

Tony’s voice softened and he kept a steady, comforting hold on Stephen’s arm. “You okay?”

“I think so, yeah.” Stephen didn’t mind when Tony moved into his space until they were hip to hip and wrapped an arm around his back for support.

 

* * *

 

Due to the nature of the contamination, Rogers had to borrow the Bus—a purely nonsensical name for a plane, Stephen thought—from Coulson. It hovered overhead as Tony and Stephen climbed into a containment pod sent down for them. There, Stephen could finally scrub enough of the goop off of his face and out of his eyes that he could at least open them. The pod returned to the hanger bay, and off they flew towards the compound.

“What is this shit, anyway?” Tony shrugged off his jacket and balled it up to use as a rag. “And how the hell did it seep through the nanites?”

The Cloak detached itself from Stephen’s shoulders and attempted to shake itself clean, which splattered both of them with even more of the sludge. Stephen shot it an icy glare, especially effective with the dark substance surrounding his eyes.

The Cloak’s collar dipped down in apology and it floated towards a corner.

“I don’t know,” Stephen said. “A secretion of some kind. It started filling a sac with this stuff right before you fired. I’m unfamiliar with this particular alien species, unfortunately. Wong should be able to fill us in later. If I had to guess… probably something like the ink squids use for defense?” His shoulders lifted and dropped in a heavy shrug.

“You should start wearing armor.” Tony smirked a bit, glancing up at him. “Especially in your line of work.”

“Most of the time there is no need to kill,” Stephen stared down at his hands, the shakes helping, for once, to get the slime off. “But when there is, my methods are usually far less messy.”

A bit of jarring turbulence and a rough bump alerted them to the plane landing. Thankfully, the compound was only a short distance by air. The pod was pushed out of the plane, hovering a few inches off the ground by thrusters which made for a smooth transport.

Tony caught Steve’s gaze through a window. “How’s Pete and Bruce?”

“All is well,” His reply came through the speakers. “The kid’s already on his way to his room. Banner is back to Banner and being looked after in the medbay.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully.

“Good job getting them out of the way, Doc,” Steve added, and Stephen glanced up to him and gave a single nod.

The pod settled into the quarantine bay. It was essentially a small apartment equipped to house the whole team in the event of a mass contamination, except no one would be able to leave once inside until a battery of tests were run and the all-clear was given. The bulletproof glass wall that sealed shut behind the pod ensured they’d stay put.

Stephen called, “Rogers,”  through the speaker as the man started to veer off in another direction. Steve stopped and turned. “Notify me as soon as Wong has something?”

“Will do.” And off he went.

Tony made a beeline for the showers, Stephen and the Cloak practically at his heels. The sooner Stephen could get this shit washed off, the better.

 

* * *

 

Stephen had been through this process plenty of times, but always alone. He was, after all, generally the only one capable of dealing with alien entities that might require a quarantine. It just so happened that he’d needed extra help with this one.

Tony wasted no time at all stripping and Stephen had to wonder just how often he went through this process himself. But, then again, the man also had no shame. And why should he? He was damn fine looking and in spectacular shape. Stephen had to tear a lingering, appreciative gaze away while he worked on the belts and buckles of his robes, made even more difficult with the slime soaking through the various layers. Every last piece was tossed into the incinerator with Tony’s outfit.

Stark cast him a glance and snorted, presumably at the sight of Stephen completely naked, and yet _still_ so thoroughly coated in the goop. “Damn, dude. Didn’t think it was _that_ bad.”

“Remind me not to be on the opposite side of you next time.” Stephen brushed past him into the open showers—large enough for at least six people at a time with room to spare—with the Cloak following close behind.

Stephen focused on the Cloak first. It barely tolerated the water as it was scrubbed and rinsed repeatedly. It wiggled and writhed beneath his working fingers, flicked water into his face, even smacked his hands away a few times.

“What’s gotten into you?” Stephen huffed when he heard quiet laughter from Tony behind him. “You’re never this… sensitive.” Or ticklish, maybe. Stephen wondered if a sentient cloak _could_ be ticklish.

Despite the difficulties, he managed to hold onto the Cloak and scrub until the blue-purple stains were completely gone. It flew off the second Stephen deemed it clean and shook itself dry, as far away from the showers as possible.

It took Tony at least three washes to get the small amount of slime off of him. Not that Stephen was stealing glances and keeping track (he was) for no reason. He told himself that his interest was purely educational. Stephen just sighed knowing he was looking at five or more washes, himself. Whatever this substance was, it wasn’t very water soluble and it took a while for the soap to start breaking it down. Almost like an oil mixed with mucous. Stephen couldn’t think of anything similar in human biology, much less any animal biology. If it was a defense mechanism, why hadn’t the creature used it from the start? Wong’s report was sure to be an interesting one. It would give him an opportunity to study a new species, dig around in libraries of other planets, and perhaps learn some new spells.

A few long moments passed before Stephen realized he had spaced out and his hands had wandered down his torso, one languidly stroking along the slick goo still clinging to his swelling cock.

Stephen ripped his hand away and turned his face into the spray of water in an attempt to clear the odd, unfocused fog settling in his head.

“Stark? Are you feeling strange at all?” Stephen called over his shoulder, purposely avoiding turning to look at him. Seemed like a bad idea at the moment.

Stephen jerked as hands settled on his hips, the contact electrifying with a direct current to his cock.

“I am now,” Tony practically purred into his ear and gooseflesh exploded down Stephen’s arms.

The fog thickened and rational thought rapidly was suddenly out of his grasp. Blood rushed in his ears as his heart worked double-time to send more down south.

“Stark, I think—” Lips were on his neck and a body pressed against him and _oh god_ every point of contact felt _so amazing_ and so fucking perfect and—

Stephen shook his head and swallowed down a moan. “This isn’t… w-we aren’t in contro— _ooh fuck_ ,” his head dropped back as Tony wrapped a hand around his prick and gave it a squeeze.

Whatever he was going to say drifted away like ashes on a breeze. His brain was too fuzzy. Stephen reached back for something to hold onto, which happened to be Tony’s hips. The touch caused Stark to shudder against him and a kiss to his neck turned into a firm, sucking bite. Stephen’s knees damn near buckled. The noise that left his own mouth rattled him out of the haze for a split second.

“Need to stop…” The words tumbled breathlessly from his mouth, seeming so distant he wasn’t entirely sure that he actually spoke them at all.

Tony’s hand squeezed again and slipped over the head of his cock. Stephen gasped and sputtered against the water, rolled his hips into Tony’s grip. How could he think they needed to stop when this felt _so damn good_? In fact, he’d never felt this good in his life. Nothing could compare. Nothing else even mattered. Only this and more of Tony’s touch.

“I’ve seen how you look at me, Stephen,” Tony’s breath was hot on his ear. “I look at you the same way.” Teeth captured the lobe of his ear and Stephen whined, pathetic and needy.

Tony’s hand stroked him while his hips rolled a rock hard cock against his slippery ass. Stephen’s fingers against Tony’s hips bit down and his whole body shook with growing pleasure. Only two more passes of Tony’s tight fist and Stephen cried out as an orgasm wracked his entire body without warning. This time his knees did give out, Tony’s strong hold the only thing that kept him from hitting the floor.

Stark managed to shuffle them forward to the wall and shoved Stephen against the cool tiles, pinning him there with a hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades. Movement hardly registered as Stephen floated in an intoxicating post-orgasm high like he’d never known before. In fact, he’d never known anything before this. At all. Ever. This was all there was. All that mattered.

New waves of pleasure pulled him back to himself as Tony fingered a mixture of cum and dark, slippery goo into him; his movements hurried and sloppy. Far, far away in some distant recess of his mind, covered under about seventeen different layers of lust and pleasure, the rational part of Stephen begged himself to stop, screamed at himself about the danger of the situation. Fingers gliding over his engorged prostate shoved those thoughts down further until they were silenced completely. Stephen was vaguely aware of Tony muttering filth, most of it drowned out by his own moans and whimpers.

“... _so fucking tight, gonna feel so good. God, what a greedy hole. Already so sloppy for me_ …”

Stephen couldn’t even figure out how to form words anymore, merely whimpered with feverish need in reply. Thick fingers pulled out and without missing a beat, a much thicker cock took their place and rammed into his hole all at once. He screamed, and yet he felt so disconnected from his own voice that it sounded foreign to his own ears. Sharp, burning pain existed somewhere in the miasma of his mind, just enough that he was aware of it. But then the pleasure increased, intensified, and swept any evidence of pain beneath the addicting sensations. Every synapse in his brain seemed dedicated to pleasure. Only pleasure. Nothing else.

 

* * *

 

Tony pushed into Stephen, gasping as the tightness was forced to give way to his cock. There wasn’t time to wait for him to adjust; Tony needed to be inside him _right that instant._ No matter, anyway—Stephen sucked his cock in like he was made for it. Tony drew his hips back, prick sliding out until just the head was inside, then snapped forward with bruising strength. His pace was unforgiving, slamming into Stephen again and again, hard enough he could feel the jarring impact of Stephen’s hips against the tiled wall. Growls joined moans and wet slaps echoing off the walls in primal, hedonistic music.

Stephen nearly blacked out with the intensity of his second orgasm, but Tony couldn’t slow down, chasing his own release that came about ten brutal seconds later. Tony pulled out and watched as cum, alien goop, and blood followed, dripping down Stephen’s pale thighs in a colorful mix. When Tony released his hold, Stephen dropped like a ragdoll, but the Cloak was there in an instant, catching him before he hit the floor.

Carefully, the Cloak cradled Stephen like a hammock, then lifted him back to Tony’s level. Each bottom corner wrapped around thighs and pulled them up until his long legs were folded, knees practically up to his ears. As Stephen came around enough to hold his legs there on his own accord, the corners fluttered down to his ass and spread his abused hole open. Still hard, Tony shoved into him once again, grabbed his bruised hips, and started to fuck him with the same brutal roughness.

Stephen cried out until his throat was raw and still he wanted more. He writhed and arched against the Cloak. It curled a corner around his prick and jerked in time with Tony’s thrusts. And Stephen would have cum again but the corner squeezed around him, cutting off the ability to do so. Normally, he would have been in agony by now, but the pain only seemed to amplify everything. Stephen clawed at Tony’s arms, tears starting to fall and mix with the water on his face. He was beyond physically exhausted, not to mention injured, but the pleasure kept building to new, impossible heights. Tony lodged himself deep, balls emptying again. The Cloak released its grip on Stephen and he came hard, groaning.

Neither of them were even close to sated.

 

* * *

 

Panting, Tony sank down to the floor. Though he couldn’t feel the burn in his thighs or feel the pain in his chest, the physical side effects couldn’t quite be ignored; his lungs and heart were being driven to their limits. Even still, he dragged Stephen into his lap with the Cloak’s help until the sorcerer straddled him just right. Stephen sank down onto his prick with ease, the damn thing _still_ not even the slightest bit soft. Stephen’s thighs trembled, but he lifted and dropped himself repeatedly, unable to ignore the same need for _more-more-more_ that Tony also felt _._ Water sprayed against Stephen’s back, raining down on Tony’s face along with the droplets that were shaken loose from Stephen’s hair.

Tony wasn’t sure why he’d waited so long for this. He was sure that he wasn’t about to stop any time soon, though. Every pitiful noise he heard tumbling from Stephen’s lips added fuel to the inferno of arousal burning at the center of his being. Every thrust into his messy hole fed the primal addiction overtaking Tony’s mind.

Even as his breaths became a struggle to draw in, he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Pleasure masked sharp pains of muscles pushed beyond their limits. His balls ached, but unnatural desire urged him on and convinced him he was far from done. He never _wanted_ to be done. Stephen was so tight even despite how wrecked he already was, so wet and slick and so fucking good. Plus he still had another hole to fuck, still had to see how his beautiful face would look while he fucked his throat. So much more to do. Had to do. Needed to do.

 

* * *

 

The Cloak pushed Stephen forward to lay against Tony’s chest, twisted up one of its corners, coating it in the globs of slime on the floor around them, then forced itself into the tight space alongside Tony’s cock. Stephen’s scream was muffled against Tony’s chest as the two pummeled his insides in tandem. He all but seized as yet another orgasm hit, balls painfully empty by now. His vision grayed, spots danced, and then he sank into blackness.

When he came to again, he was face-down on the floor, water beating down on the side of his head.  His arms were twisted up behind his back, body jerking backward to meet the snap of Tony’s hips. It felt like the Cloak was wrapped around Tony’s cock as it plowed into him with harsh, unstable movement. The water was cold now but he scarcely noticed. Red hot pleasure overpowered everything else. The only thought finding purchase in his brain was _god yes-more-harder-need it_ on a seemingly endless loop _._ Crimson pooled on the floor between his bruised knees, slowly trickling towards the drain.

Vaguely, Stephen became aware of other voices suddenly joining them, raised and bouncing around the tiled room. His vision was blurred, but one of them was definitely Wong. Another could have been Rogers, or perhaps Thor; big and blonde was all he could really make sense of. Strong arms forcibly pulled Tony off him, another set of hands restrained the Cloak, and he was lifted and cradled against a broad chest.

The last thing he recalled before he lost consciousness again was the familiar tingle of magic.

 

* * *

  
Tony woke first. His head was pounding and his body ached so deeply that even breathing made everything hurt. For a while he simply lay there, focusing on the beeping of the heart monitors and struggling to bring everything into as much focus as he could.

“He’s up.” Wong’s voice. Tense.

“Tony?” Bruce. Concerned. “Tony, are you with us?”

It was weak, but he managed a small nod, then tilted his head over to get a look at them.

“What,” he croaked out. Bruce pressed a straw to his lips while cradling the back of his head so he could take a long drink of water. “What happened?” he managed.

“What do you last remember?” Wong asked. Why was he even here?

“Uh… the alien, the mess, going to quarantine…” Brows furrowed a bit. “The showers. Strange was trying to wash his cape. Then…” Then it started to get blurry. What _did_ happen next? He’d laughed at the uncooperative garment, watched it leave as fast as possible, then just simply watched Stephen until…

Stark bolted upright and was met with stabbing pains from his abdomen down to his knees.

“Easy, Tony!” Bruce tried to push him back down as gently as possible. But Tony wasn’t budging, his gaze locked on the bed beside his, behind Bruce and Wong. Where Stephen was still unconscious.

“I… I did this. Oh my god I—”

“Calm down, Stark.” Wong’s tone softened. “It wasn’t your fault. Neither of you had control of yourselves. The substance from that alien has some nasty effects on carbon-based lifeforms. Once it’s absorbed, for us, at least, it hijacks the pleasure-pain center of the brain. This could have been much worse.”

Tony swallowed thickly. Knowing didn’t make him feel any better. He’d still done that. Still caused Stephen harm. Forced him.

“How is he?”

Bruce looked over his shoulder at the sorcerer, frowning a little.

“There was… extensive internal damage and a considerable amount of blood loss. Wong has had him in a magically induced coma. He’s been taking turns with Master Hamir performing different kinds of healing spells, I think.”

Wong nodded. “Essentially, yes. He will recover fully, do not worry. Stephen has suffered far worse. The hard part was extracting the remaining substance from your systems. You are likely going to have a headache for the next few days.”

Tony lay back, staring at the ceiling tiles. He’d gladly suffer headaches for the rest of his life for what he did. He’d suffer anything to take it back.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” Tony lifted a hand to rub his eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I know it is hard to accept that it was not _you_ , but you must believe me.” Wong squeezed his shoulder gently. “We are going to keep him in the trance for three more days. I suggest you rest as much as possible.”

“Yeah,” Bruce added, “you weren’t in great shape either. Multiple sprained and torn muscles, I’m pretty sure you were on the verge of a heart attack, one of your lungs partially collapsed.” Bruce pushed his glasses up, then folded his arms. “So get comfortable. I’m not letting you out of here for a while.”

 

* * *

 

Consciousness drifted back to Stephen sluggishly. One by one his senses came back to him which proved to be quite disorientating. Slow, tired blinks brought the world into focus; a hospital room, dimmed lights, and three people standing around him. Wong’s face was the first he recognized, his brows furrowed but raised a little, lips tight. Typical worried-Wong-face. Dr. Banner was next, his expression one of pure relief and perhaps a touch of awe. Then, finally, there was Tony.

Tony, who looked on the verge of falling to pieces. Guilt, shame, and sorrow all but radiating off of him. Tony, who wore ten different masks at any given time to protect himself from a world that had been so unkind, standing there with shockingly naked emotion.

While he rehydrated and got his bearings again, Wong filled him in on what happened and how it happened. The pieces fell back into place. Stephen’s face remained neutral and he didn’t once spare even another fleeting glance to Tony. At least not until Wong and Bruce took their leave to give them privacy for the conversation everyone knew was about to happen.

When the door shut, Tony’s mouth opened.

“I am _so_ sorry for what I did. It was horrible. _I’m_ horrible. I am more than deserving of whatever revenge or punishment or whatever you might want and I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, god that’s the last thing I—”

“Stark.”

“We don’t ever have to interact outside of missions again, you don’t ever even have to speak to me again. What I did was repulsive and unfor—”

“ _Tony_ ,” Stephen barked, voice still raspy.

Tony fell silent and stood there, slumped, arms folded, barely able to hold his gaze. Stephen hadn’t seen him so vulnerable and unhinged since the day they stood together in an alien spaceship on its way to Titan.

“None of this was your fault. It could have easily been me who did it to you. You can’t blame yourself when you weren’t in control of yourself.”

“Stephen, I _raped_ you!”

Bloated silence fell between them. Stephen saw the terror in Tony’s eyes, how they glistened from tears yet unshed. How anyone could think this man was selfish was beyond his understanding.

With a heavy sigh, Stephen finally broke the tense quietness.

“Come here,” Scarred hands patted the bed beside his legs and reluctantly Tony sauntered closer. He didn’t sit, but he did lean against the bed. “Look at me, please.”

Tony’s jaw flexed, the corners of his mouth were pulled downward a fraction. Shame was written all over his face. It didn’t suit him, Stephen thought. Gradually, soft brown eyes rose  to meet his.

“You did not rape me in any way, shape, or form.” Stephen said. “We were both victims of an alien toxin. We were both cognitively and physically impaired and being controlled by something that wasn’t _us_.” He reached forward and placed a reassuring hand against one of Tony’s folded arms. “Do you understand?”

The tension didn’t leave his face, but Tony nodded.

“And,” Stephen leaned back against his pillows, “I would have said yes under normal circumstances, anyway.”

Confusion and disbelief warred for control of Tony’s face, and Stephen couldn’t help but laugh quietly. It was so unlike the Stark he knew, but in a good way. The man rarely let anyone surprise him like that.

“Seriously?”

“You’re really an oblivious idiot sometimes, you know.” Stephen’s smirk was cocky, but his words were full of affection. “Yes, seriously. We’ve been flirting back and forth for well over a year now. Do you really think I’m the kind of person who would keep it up if I weren’t interested?”

“Uh… no. No, you wouldn’t.” Tony managed to regain a bit of composure.

“So, there you have it.” Stephen shrugged, lips still quirked upwards, in something between a smile and grin. “And if you want to give it a shot, I’m in. If not, well, let’s just try to avoid getting slimed again and we’ll be good.”

Finally, Tony unfolded his arms, the last of his guilt and tension fading away. His hands slipped into his pockets—casual sweats, Stephen noted, meaning he probably hadn’t been allowed out of here yet—and he rocked back on his heels.

“This is about the last thing I expected to happen when I woke up three days ago.”

Stephen shrugged. “Unexpected could be my middle name.”

“But it’s not.”

“Uh, yeah, obviously I know.”

“Vincent is your middle name.”

“Congratulations, you know how to use google.”

Tony cocked a half grin, and Stephen was already smirking back. Tony’s natural bronze skin paled, and rather abruptly, he turned on socked feet and crossed the short distance to his own bed.

“We can give it a go. But not until we’re both out of here.” He plopped down onto his bed, scooted back, and pulled his legs up.

“You’re about to pass out, aren’t you?” Stephen asked.

“Yes, in fact, I am.”

“Bruce told you to stay in bed, didn’t he?”

“Yep.” Tony popped the “p” sound before he eased back to lay his head onto his pillow.

Stephen smiled to himself. “Friday, 8pm, my place. Don’t be late.” He leaned over in an attempt to get a better look at Tony, the absolute disaster that he was. Tony gave him a thumbs up, then dropped his hand onto his stomach.

Shaking his head, Stephen pressed the call button on his bed. When Bruce came in he just rolled his eyes and headed straight for Tony’s bed.


End file.
